


You Only Get So Many First Times

by Defiler_Wyrm



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (mentioned) - Freeform, (spoiler alert), Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Condoms, Crack Treated Seriously, Cunnilingus, Cussing, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve/F mention, Teasing, Top Steve Rogers, Virginity, no beta reading we die like men, or anything past that because to hell with iron man 4-6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 02:30:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19432063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defiler_Wyrm/pseuds/Defiler_Wyrm
Summary: Nat figures out how to make Steve blush; Sam, and later Bucky, get in on it. But when Steve starts trying to "snap back" (or is it clap? modern slang is hard), they each get an earful theyreallyweren't expecting.Excerpt:Nat cut Steve a narrow look not at all softened by a knife of a smirk. “Come on, Rogers, I’ve known you long enough now to know this Boy Scout act of yours is exactly that: an act. You’re no innocent.”Steve, in good sorts, put on a scandalized look for her. Somehow he managed to keep a straight face while declaring, “I’ll have you know I am pure as driven snow.”He does not see the look on Bucky's face until it's too late.





	You Only Get So Many First Times

The moment Natasha found out how easy it was to make Steve blush, it was all over.

It started with an off-color comment about Sam’s sex life on their way to a drop point. Sam, for his part, had taken it in stride and “snapped back” (or was it clapped? Modern slang was hard), but Steve felt his face burning before his wingman could get a word in.

Natasha’s eyes burned a hole in him as she held up a forestalling hand. “Sam, just a second—Steve are you _blushing?_ ”

The accusation made it worse, of course. He tried to distract himself from the heat creeping across his cheeks and neck by fixating on his harness straps. “Come on, guys, stay focused. Crack skulls now, crack wise later.”

“He doesn’t like that kind of blue language,” Sam cut in, laughter in his tone.

“I heard a lot worse in the Army,” Steve reminded them. Even he could hear how defensive he sounded.

Nat just kept staring. “But not from the ladies, is that it?”

Steve blustered. No, that wasn’t it. No, she was _right_ in that yes, the bluest of the blue were all men back in the day, at least around him—it was just the _topic._ Growing up Catholic in the Thirties didn’t do him any favors on that front.

The other two, little shits that they were, just watched him expectantly until Clint saved the day by calling, “Three minutes out.”

“Thank God,” Steve muttered. Something told him it was only going to be a momentary reprieve.

.oOo.

Boy did he hate being right sometimes.

From then out Nat seemed to make a game of needling him with surprise innuendoes. If he didn’t know any better he’d swear she was awarding herself a point tally. At one point he got short with her, which he wasn’t proud of, but for the rest of the day she gave it a rest. It was a testament to both his temper and her...Natness that each passing hour saw him more and more tense as he waited for her to let fly. At the end of the evening he finally let himself relax: he’d gotten through to her, and she’d had her fun and that was that.

Until she bade him good-night by saying she was off to find a nice young man to introduce to her strap-on. Her smoky chuckle haunted him long after she closed the door behind her.

.oOo.

Sam got in on it, of course, but he wasn’t as bad about it. The two of them together were intolerable, and when Bucky was in a rare sociable mood he talked so damn dirty—and, even more gallingly, without actually saying a single explicit thing—that Steve had to leave the room.

Over the next few days they seemed to gauge his reactions better; they tried his patience, but figured out quickly when to back off. They were good friends even when they kinda made Steve want to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.

So that’s how he came to be lounging at his breakfast table across from Nat, shaking his head incredulously. Sam had been suffering through a rolling giggle fit for the past ten minutes, and Bucky had claimed “his” chair along with an oversized mug of coffee and a blanket, valiantly ignoring their rising volume in favor of a book.

Nat cut Steve a narrow look not at all softened by a knife of a smirk. “Come on, Rogers, I’ve known you long enough now to know this Boy Scout act of yours is exactly that: an act. You’re no innocent.”

Steve, in good sorts, put on a scandalized look for her. Somehow he managed to keep a straight face while declaring, “I’ll have you know I am pure as driven snow.”

Both Sam and Natasha opened their mouths to offer a rejoinder. Neither of them got a word in, because the sound of Bucky spewing latte caught them all off guard. Steve couldn’t even exclaim over his carpet before Bucky was on his feet, pointing at Steve like a Pilgrim accusing someone of being a witch.

“Bull _shit_ ,” Bucky coughed, never taking his eyes off Steve. “You plowed me three times a week from 1934 to 1943—you are _not_ a _fucking virgin._ ”

Now it was Steve’s turn to choke. Thankfully he had nothing to do it on but his own tongue at the time. He heard himself blurt out an answer as if he had no control over his own body.

“You said it didn’t count!”

Now all three of them were staring at him and he’d never been so red-faced in his life, not even the time Banner and Stark needled him into eating a habañero, but for the love of fuck he was only going to deal with one of them at this exact moment.

Bucky had the nerve to give him a—Steve wasn’t really sure how to characterize the look. It was like something out of a cartoon. Angry disbelief? With a little head-shake? It wasn’t fetching. He further threw his hands in the air in a wild gesture more animated than just about anything he’d done while awake since Steve caught up with him. “I didn’t think you actually _BELIEVED ME!”_

From somewhere outside his own body still, Steve was aware of Nat watching the two of them like a cat that just spotted a bird, and then of Sam scrambling to his feet and dragging her out of the room by an arm muttering “Nope, nuh uh, absolutely not, we do not need to be here for this.”

But it was all distant compared to _James Buchanan Fucking Barnes, Lying Shit_ . “Bucky I cannot believe you would just _lie to me_ like that!”

Bucky goggled at him. “I thought you were in on it, what the _fuck_ Steven?!” He seemed to take Steve fish-mouthing at him as another opening. “For Christ’s sake, you had your dick so far up my ass I was tasting rubber and you _actually thought_ it _didn’t count?!_ ”

When he put it like that it did sound stupid.

“I didn’t think you remembered that,” Steve said lamely.

Bucky fell back into his (Steve’s, thank you very much) chair with the drama of a starlet. “Bits and pieces,” he huffed. “I remember it being a game we played to keep us under wraps. I was afraid of something stupid when we started, not the least of which was you getting cold feet, so we said it didn’t count if you pulled out.” Bucky frowned at the wall. “That happened, didn’t it?”

“I don’t remember getting cold feet,” Steve grumbled. “I remember believing you at first, and then getting the feeling you were just saying that to preserve your...manhood, I don’t know—” (Bucky scoffed and gave him a scathing look from where he sat with feet drawn up and spine bowed distractingly) “—but then the showgirls said some things that matched up and I came back around to thinking you were right and it didn’t count.”

Bucky squinted at him. “What _things_.”

“Noooo no, you first.” Steve wagged a finger at him. “What were you afraid of?”

Bucky muttered something unintelligible and squirmed under the scrutiny that followed. Finally he muttered more audibly: “I was afraid you’d knock me up.”

He did not share in Steve’s mirth. In fact he was downright ruffled when Steve damn near fell out of his chair laughing.

“Oh fuck you, Rogers,” Bucky barked, “I was seventeen and the only sex ed we’d got was from the penguins who told us watermelons would grow in our stomachs if we swallowed the seeds!”

Steve managed to gasp, “Oh next you’re gonna tell me that’s not true either?” before getting a cushion lobbed at his head.

“I hate you,” Bucky groused, slouching deeper into the armchair. “Your turn, asshole. What’d these showgirls tell you didn’t count? Eating pussy?”

 _Well_. Steve choked on his own laughter and ducked his head. “Uh. Yeah. E...exactly that.”

Bucky sighed through his nose. “I gotta be the one to inform you, that’s sex too, Steve. It’s right there in the name: _oral sex._ ” He spread his mismatched hands in mocking emphasis.

“Alright, _fine,_ I guess I’m not a virgin,” Steve groaned, “and haven’t been for a while now. That still doesn’t mean I wanna hear people _talking_ about it all the time.”

“I bet that’s all you gotta tell them, you know. They’re just doing it to get a rise outta you.”

Steve sputtered audibly. “ _They?_ You’re the worst of a rotten lot, mack.”

Bucky smirked at him sidelong. “So what if I like getting a rise outta you too.”

“I’ll show you a rise,” Steve said without thinking, but it was too late to take back, and anyway the hungry, mischievous glint Bucky’s gaze took on made him regret it less and less by the second. His friend bit his lower lip and sprawled his limbs out. It was downright lewd, even fully clothed.

“Why don’t you,” Bucky purred. The sound made the breath catch in Steve’s throat. “Clearly I’m done reading for today, so whaddaya say we go make it count for a change?”

His mouth was dry and his pants were tight. Great position to be in. About two seconds from pouncing on Bucky he doused himself with figurative cold water: his friend had only been answering to his own name for a few months now. They weren’t yet past three minutes on being-in-public time. Surely it was too soon.

“Bucky,” he said seriously, “are—yes, God, I want that _really badly_ , but...are you sure?”

Bucky just rolled his eyes. “I swear to God if you ask me if I’m mentally stable enough to fuck yet, Steve, I’m gonna jerk off right here and now without you. I got reacquainted with my prostate three weeks ago, _yes_ , I am readYEE!”

Steve smirked to himself as he hoisted Bucky right up out of the armchair, and shivered at the contrasting heats of Bucky’s arms wrapping around his neck for support. “I’ve missed you,” he crooned against his dear friend’s lips.

“Sap,” Bucky grinned back, fingertips tickling through Steve’s hair. “Take me to bed, you giant idiot. No rubber this time, no pulling out. We’re gonna de-virginize you right this time.”

Steve kissed him again and took them both down the hall, careful not to bash Bucky’s head against the door jamb. “You know Sam says virginity’s a social construct that doesn’t make any real changes to your body or worth.”

“That’s great, sweetheart,” Bucky sighed, sprawling on the bed as Steve gently laid him down, “and he’s probably right, but I still want you to wreck my ass and come inside me.”

Steve stumbled in taking off a shoe. “And I promise I will if you just stop _talking about it_ like that.”

Bucky smirked like the cat that got the cream. Or, more accurately, Steve thought but decidedly _did not_ say, the cyborg who was about to get it. “Darlin’, that suits me fine.”

Their first time was just as beautiful the thousandth time around.


End file.
